Boss's Favorite
by iWriteGossipGirl
Summary: Blair & Chuck
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE**

Surely, despite the fact that her life was a mess, she hadn't become a newspaper thief?

In only one short year, her life had become a financial nightmare. After her husband had died, she discovered his business hadn't been as successful as everyone had thought and they'd been living the high life on borrowed money. Not only was she forced to move from California to Portage, Pennsylvania, to live with her parents but her good name had gone to hell in a handbasket.

She didn't know how the gossip of her near bankruptcy and mismanaged credit had traveled nearly 3,000 miles, but it had. And now, on her very first day back in town — the day she wanted to begin rebuilding her reputation — she and her father both held a newspaper, which could only mean she had stolen the neighbor's.

"It's ours," Harold Waldorf said, chuckling. "What did you think I did, swipe Chuck's?"

"No, but I'm guessing that since you have yours," Blair said, just barely keeping the panic out of her voice, "_I_ stole Chuck's."

"Oh, dear." Her mother grimaced as she looked at the wrinkled newspaper her daughter quickly refolded.

Blair rose from her seat. She didn't like Chuck Bass, not one bit. She liked even less the fact that he lived next door to her family home. He was just another nuisance she would have to endure until she got a job and found her own place. "It's not a big deal. I'll just put it back."

Even as she said the words, she turned toward the screen door and saw Chuck standing on the grass strip between the side-by-side driveways, searching for his paper. Though she didn't want her breath to catch, it did.

Another man would look ridiculous in the gaudy gold velour robe he wore, but not Chuck. He was spectacular. The unexpectedly bright attire intensified the hues of his dark hair and brilliant brown eyes, and the shape-molding material accented his tall, muscular build. Because his eyes narrowed as he glanced about in frustration, he resembled an angry Greek god.

Chuck had been Blair's first love. He was the boy she had dated all through high school. Unfortunately he was also the boy who had stood her up for their senior prom. And he never told her why. He skipped town, leaving her wondering what had happened.

And now a stupid, inconsequential newspaper had turned the tables in their squabble. Because she had taken his paper, she wouldn't be able to assume the high ground and ignore him, as she had planned to do while she lived here.

Seeing his growing anger, Blair knew there was no way she could walk out and hand his paper to him. Besides, she didn't really want to talk to him. She certainly didn't have anything to say to him. What girl really wanted to face her first love wearing oversize purple flannel pajamas? No woman in her right mind would look forward to encountering her Chuck Bass. Most women would refuse. Blair refused, too.

She waited until Chuck gave up hunting for his paper, then sneaked outside, and slid it between the two rhododendron bushes hiding the tank of gas for his stove. Just as she had the newspaper positioned to appear as if an overzealous paperboy had thrown it there, she heard a deep, masculine voice.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?"


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO **

Blair just barely stopped herself from screaming. Hand pressed to her heart, she spun around. "Geez, Chuck, you scared the life out of me."

"A guilty conscience will do that to you," Chuck said, folding his arms across his chest as he glared at her. "The _Dispatch_ is still only 50 cents, Blair. You don't have to steal mine."

It surprised her that he recognized her. He hadn't seen her since she was 17, and she knew she wasn't the perky cheerleader she had been when they dated. But more than that, the past year of worries and pain had taken an additional toll on her appearance. Even the color of her hair seemed off.

"I didn't steal your paper..."

"Only because I caught you before you could."

"I was putting it back."

"Yeah, right," Chuck said. His gaze slid from her face down to her purple plaid pajamas and his eyebrows rose. "Why don't you simply admit you took the paper, give it back to me, and go home and put on something that doesn't quite blind the neighborhood."

"People wearing glass houses shouldn't throw stones, Chuck," Blair countered, waving a hand in the direction of his luminous velour sleepwear, though she'd already admitted to herself that even in his gaudy gold robe Chuck looked fabulous. Like Blair, he had added some weight since high school, but where hers was extra padding hopefully hidden by clothes a size too large, his was muscle. His shoulders had broadened, his chest had filled out, and he had a perfectly flat stomach.

Right then and there, Blair knew there was no justice in life. By all accounts, he shouldn't look this good. Just as she'd lost her home to her husband's debts, he'd lost his in his divorce. He'd lost half of his company to his ex-wife, as well. He should be as tired and stressed out as she was. Yet he looked great. Couldn't he at least have had the good grace to get fat?

"I didn't steal your paper. I took it thinking it was my parents'. But when I saw my dad already had a paper, I brought this one back."

"Yeah, that's why you were hiding it."

"I was hiding it because, Oh, shoot, forget it. Think what you like," she said, slapping the paper into Chuck's perfect stomach and storming away. "I wish the whole damned world would lighten up already."

"Yeah, well," Chuck called after her, "I think the whole damned world has gone too soft. Maybe if people would pay attention to what they're doing and have a little more courtesy, everybody would get along well enough that no one would have to lighten up."

It was on the tip of Blair's tongue to tell him that those were fancy words from a guy who had to sell his big house and mortgage his company because his ex-wife couldn't stand living with him anymore. But she reeled in her temper and continued up the steps of her parents' home.

"You always were an uptight snob," she mumbled, but not nearly loud enough for him to hear. To hell with him. _He_ was the least of her worries.…


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

After two cups of coffee and four strips of bacon, Blair had forgotten all about her encounter with Chuck Bass. Going over the single page of want ads in the _Dispatch_ with a fine-tooth comb, she'd found exactly four jobs she was vaguely qualified for. Unfortunately, after spending the afternoon visiting each of the businesses, Blair still wasn't employed.

She returned to her parents' home, discouraged by the shortage of opportunities for a motivated, organized woman lacking any job experience. Her mother looked at her father, then suggested that there was one very open, very doable job for her: assistant to Chuck Bass.

He had never replaced his ex-wife in his business when she filed for divorce. Rumor had it that he worried that another woman would steal his heart, then use the job as a springboard to again steal half his company, her mother explained.

After a few minutes of thinking it over, Blair's choice was made. Given that she really needed a job and didn't want Chuck's heart, and he needed an assistant but certainly didn't want anything to do with her, she decided she was perfect.

When he arrived home at seven that evening, Blair marched to his back porch and climbed the steps. She drew a long breath for courage, then rang the bell.

Chuck answered the door wearing jeans, a sweatshirt, and reading glasses. Thank God. The glasses made him seem different, older, maybe…kinder. "All finished with the paper, so you've come browsing for magazines?"

"Uh, no," Blair said, laughing slightly at his worthless attempt at humor, and realizing the glasses didn't help him one bit. But she wasn't here to critique his jokes or his behavior. She needed a job from this man. "Actually, I want to talk with you."

He started to close the door. "This isn't a good time for me."

She stuck her foot between the door frame and the heavy wooden door, and took advantage of the element of surprise to elbow her way into his all white, newly remodeled kitchen. "I won't stay long, but I do want to apologize for _accidentally_ taking your paper this morning."

He removed his glasses. Then, in the same way he had when he caught her with her hand between his rhododendrons, he crossed his arms on his wide chest. "Apology accepted."

Inching her way into the sparkling room, she ran her fingers along the shiny white countertop. "That was such an unfortunate way to meet after all these years." She glanced up at him and smiled. "So, what have you been up to since high school?"

"Nothing worth printing in the _Dispatch,_" he said curtly. "And, really, Blair, I'm very busy. If you'd cut to the chase, I would appreciate it."

"All right," she said, exasperated because he couldn't give her an inch. Just like in high school. Nitpick, nitpick, nitpick. With eight years' distance to give her perspective, she couldn't remember why she'd put up with him.

"I need a job." Refusing to beg, Blair nonetheless hauled in her temper via a swift intake of air. "I heard that you never replaced your ex-wife, and since you stood me up for the prom, you owe me. I think you should hire me."

"There's a damn good reason I never replaced my ex-wife," Chuck replied angrily. "Having her as an assistant opened the door for her to say she was instrumental in the development of the business and steal half my company. I'm not going to make that mistake again."

"I didn't ask you to marry me. I asked you to give me a job. Since we're not going to get married, there'll be no divorce, and there'll be no settlement. Your company is very safe." She looked him right in the eyes. "_You're_ very safe with me."


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

"No. I won't hire you to be my assistant."

"Come on, Chuck! I need a job."

"Yeah, well, I would like to keep my sanity for the rest of my life." He held her gaze for several seconds, then quickly turned away. His eyes lingered a little longer than Blair would have expected. If she didn't know better, she would guess the guy didn't want to work with her because he still found her attractive.

But that couldn't be it. First, he had dumped her 8 years ago. A man doesn't strand a woman to whom he's attracted, without a good reason — and he had never given her any explanation. Second, she didn't thought she no longer looked young and pretty; she'd put on some weight. Her hair was lackluster. Her shoulders drooped. Life had beaten her up and it showed. There was no way he was attracted to her.

"Chuck, if I weren't desperate, I wouldn't be here. And I'm not going to make your life miserable. I'm not the kind of person who makes anybody's life miserable. You know me. I'm the same person I was 8 years ago."

He faced her again. His eyes seemed to glitter but not with anger or frustration, as when she'd accidentally taken his paper. This time they glittered with something a little more personal…a little more dangerous.

Nerves fluttered in Blair's stomach. She wished she could pull back everything she had said because she'd just reminded him that they had been lovers. Teenage lovers. Young, hungry lovers, as eager and joyful as two crazy puppies.

Great.

Now she remembered why she put up with his fussiness. At the time it had seemed worth it. If she remembered correctly — and she was having some very vivid recollections right now — it had been.

Fearing the worst, she again caught his gaze. As some of the more memorable scenarios raced through her head, the expression in his smoldering brown eyes nearly buckled her knees. Dear God. What had she done?

But before she could formulate the words to get herself out of this mess, Chuck asked, "How could creating a multimillion dollar company and losing it when your husband died not change you?"

Momentarily confused by his response, Blair only stared at him until she realized he had not been remembering the same things she was. If he had a strange expression on his face it was because she puzzled him, not because he was attracted to her.

She should have been relieved that his mind obviously hadn't been where she'd thought it was, but instead, his not remembering their shared passion was an insult. It was a demeaning snub, considering that what they'd shared was incredibly memorable to her. And, irrationally, that didn't make her as much mad as it did hurt her feelings.

"Aren't you bitter? Aren't you angry? How could you possibly be the same? And how could you possibly feel that the past 8 years haven't changed you?"

"You're right, Chuck. I am bitter. I am angry. And the past 8 years have made me downright mean."

With that she swept through his kitchen and out his door with all the flair of a beleaguered, yet somehow still spunky, Bette Davis heroine. Of course he didn't remember what they had shared. He was a man. Men didn't remember things like kisses in the park or making love under a crescent moon. They might remember sex, but they didn't remember passion.


End file.
